Mother Of Dragons

Chapter 23

Dany stayed close to Jorah in the temple, talking and waiting in the dim light. Mostly waiting. She wondered what Drogo would do to the merchant tied to the post in front of them. Nothing good, she knew. Ser Jorah assured her that he would be dealt with as soon as the khalasar left the city, by being tied to a horse and forced to walk until he fell. Then he would be dragged until nightfall, and left on the side of the road as feed for the wild dogs.

This was the second attempt on her son this month. She was tired of living this way, always afraid of who would step out of the shadows with a knife pointing at her. How far away would she have to go to get away from the Usurper before he would stop chasing her?

She must have voiced aloud as much, as Jorah proceeded to tell her that Robert Baratheon would travel to the ends of the earth in order to end her life. How comforting. She lamented that her taste of freedom had been so short lived. The only thing that roused her fight was the threat to her son. Rhaego would not fall to the Baratheons, not while she still breathed. "He will not have my son," she answered, rallying her strength, a dark fire of anger beginning to burn in her chest.

"He won't have you, either, Khaleesi," Jorah promised. He was looking at her in a way that she couldn't place. She quickly passed it off as his concern for her safety and resumed her internal worrying.

Bright, yellow light was approaching the temple, and Aggo and Cohollo entered, followed by Drogo. He walked right up to the wine merchant and stood over him, glaring down at him. Dany was surprised the smaller man didn't piss his pants as he cowered, and Drogo reached for a lighted torch. Nervously, Dany watched as Drogo sized him up; she could hear him breathing, it was so silent in the temple in that moment before Drogo walked away from him, throwing his flame into the firepit and striding toward her purposefully.

"Moon of my Life, are you hurt?" he demanded, cupping her face and looking her over to assure himself. She smiled and shook her head at him, grasping his hands to allay her own shaking. He wasted no time in kissing her hairline softly, conveying his unspoken words of love and relief she was all right. She felt his meaning all the way through her body, and pulled him closer to her with a hand on his waist. She was beyond caring what was considered appropriate contact with him in their sacred temple. She needed to feel him close.

Drogo gifted Jorah a horse. If it had been any other culture, Dany would have been offended that the price of her life could be settled with a horse, but there was nothing of higher value than a good horse to the Dothraki. It was fitting. Large, warm hands were suddenly on her, caressing their son softly, and Drogo pledged another gift. Stepping away from her, he roared out his intent to conquer Westeros for their son, the blood riders of the khalasar roaring out and cheering with him, ready for war.

Daenerys couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was actually going to do it. He would act and seize the Seven Kingdoms. She had to forcefully tamp down her urge to run to him and devour his mouth with hers. She had to practice restraint in the temple; the laws of the Dothraki may not apply in their home, but here, in the temple, they prevailed over everything else.

She suddenly realized that they would leave within the next few days, as soon as the khalasar could prepare. All her carefully laid plans for Rhaego's birth were now overturned. Nervousness took place of her flush of desire, and she quietly panicked for a moment before collecting herself together again. What would happen if she were to begin labor during a battle? Or so far out in the grasslands that there was no water, nowhere to stop for her? Would they stop, even if they could? Drogo was goading his riders on with promises of women and conquest, what she'd been trying to talk him into for the past several days, and now she was having a moment of second thoughts.

Drogo came for her then, lifting her in his arms and taking her outside to greet the stars. He seated her on his red stallion in front of him, his riders following them on their own mounts, and they rode for home. Several paces from their door, a large fire pit had been hastily assembled and lit. Drogo dismounted, shouting out to passing slaves to bring food and drink for everyone. Dany was carefully lifted down from Drogo's snorting and pawing horse, and set on her feet.